Ashes
by Blackstory
Summary: Oneshot songfic. There are times when a man's humanity strips away, and leaves only the feral foundations of bestial instinct behind. This is mankind at its worst. Shounenai, DeschxIngus.


Warning. This is slightly dark. Contains yaoi/shounenai/slash/man-on-man, whatever you want to call it. Not a generically happy romance story. To Shadowjirachi, if you're reading this: I actually posted it. You must be as gobsmacked as that time when I glomped you without warning while appearing offline. By the way, listen to the song on youtube or something. I can't figure out if it's rock, metal, or something else. I've never been good at identifying music. Just...take my advice and DON'T watch the music video. It's really disturbing. But the song itself seemed to fit my idea of Semeshipping (to all who don't know, our name for DeschxIngus, 'cause they're supersemes) and was wonderfully inspiring for it. Go listen. I command you. It's 'Ashes' by Pain of Salvation.

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It was dark, the sun long swallowed by the tortuous shadows of the deep. The beasts that hunted by day had retreated to the clouded chambers of undisturbed sleep, and their places had been taken by those creatures that crawled in the night. The trees of a long forgotten forest grew unevenly, tightly pressed in places and sparse in others. Some formed gnarled forests of roots at their bases, a deadly trap for anyone that tried to walk across them. Some of the ancient specimens reached out to the weak moonlight, monumental and mountainous in their oppressive height. Others dwindled below, the perfect haunts for patient predators that had no reason to fear the darkness.

Some of the foliage had been torn apart by endless battles and territory disagreements, and had fallen with deadened creaks across the land, pulling down innumerable others with them. Some had been near exploded by the creatures that sprung from them, snarling and ready to destroy. But it seemed that even the demonic messengers of the night were docile in the presence of the new, forgotten moon, weakened from shining ever brightly the day before. Everywhere the petulant birdsong was spiced by the bittersweet wails of the dormant creatures, craving the frosty light of the lonely moon. Everywhere the darkness and sorrow masked the sins thrown into its origin, and friends were blind to the deeds carried out in the shadows.

There were two; young and proud in their power, and the regalia that had once been composure squashed to the point where they couldn't be called any better than the monsters of the forest. Like the foulest of creatures, they snarled and growled in a disagreement very different from the sort that normally took place in the ridge's shaded enclosure, and the night was awash in a spray of brutality and fire. They were enthralled and possessed by the twisted song of untold secrets, primal instinct and desire called up to strip humanity again.

It was in a spacious alcove of clearness amidst trees that they battled, locked in the feral impulses of a forgotten act. One was older than the other: unknown power thrumming beneath his skin, the oblivious servant of greater forces. His teal hair was tied firmly by a strip of cloth, allowing a large tuft of it to emerge at the end. His violet eyes were dark and clouded. The other held himself defiantly, normally tidy blond hair messy and his eyes as cold a blue as always. Both were mussed and disheveled, no longer the neat and pristine people that walked by the sunlight.

_You claim I don't know you, but I know you well_

_I read in those ash eyes we've been through hell_

_I've walked with the weakest just to feel strong_

_You've given your body just to belong_

_Let's burn together_

_Let's burn together_

_This pain will never end_

_These scars will never mend_

They writhed and shifted and battled like beasts, coherency stripped and drowned in the dark tides of lust. All masks and all fronts had been dragged away, and the vulnerable people revealed were quickly corrupted by the sin that danced around them. They were truly at their worst: manner and dignity reduced to the raw, painful bestiality beneath everything. Their affair was not one of love and peace, but a dark union of pain and desire. The entirety of the men known as Ingus and Desch had been ripped down and pulled away to the very foundations of their existence, the lowest of the low that made them more creature than human.

Ingus sprang. Fuelled by deathly determination and the urge to dominate, he launched himself at the other man like a rabid animal, capturing the other in a searing moment of fire. Lip-locked, the two growled against each other, reacting and retaliating to the internal thrum of desire. Ingus was the initiator- fanning the proverbial flame into a furnace and instantly breaking into the other's mouth. He'd started a heated battle of violent dominance, not by any means trying to be careful. They were primal, destructive, and gripped in the black essence of origin that dissolved away any and all inhibitions. It descended into a jaded fight of pain, violence, and sadistic lust, hints of blood tearing into the terrifying tide of fury and earth.

Desch was the one to win, conquer, and dominate the other; and with a bitter sense of triumph tackle him to the ground behind, sending sand and soil everywhere. Before he could respond, Ingus was captured in the fluctuating wavelength of pain and pleasure. In a matter of seconds he fell into the shameful shudders and spasms of blissful reaction, where he knew that every sound and movement was taken in hungrily by the conqueror.

And it went on; fiery, ethereal sin united with the greatest virtue in chaotic moments of shadow and secret. It was continuous to the time when the birdsong shifted- changed, the night creatures abandoning their posts and slinking away to the depths of the earth. In return, another world began to stir.

_I taste your sorrow and you taste my pain_

_Drawn to each other for every stain_

_Licking the layers of soot from your skin_

_Your tears work my crust to let yourself in_

_Touching you harder_

_Touching you harder now_

Unspoken, the two men silently brushed the soil from their skin and made themselves presentable. Invisible masks and foundations slid into place again, and the atrocious bestiality was forgiven. Traces remained- red marks upon their respective skins (Ingus's, especially), their messy out-of-place hair, and the way they still trembled in the echo of desire. Desch grinned, and a tad shakily reached out to attempt composing Ingus's hair. The blond glared and shooed the hands away, returning to his own attempts quite hastily. Desch chuckled, and removed the cloth from his hair, taking his time to run his fingers through it before tying it up again.

"I hate the dawn." Ingus muttered, sending an irritable glare at the dark sky, which was getting gradually lighter with a pale rusty-red seeping into its velvet folds.

Desch chuckled. "I'm sure you do." Something passed between them- maybe an off-place look or some rather obvious body language, but Ingus had picked up on it.

"Not because of _that_, you great pervert." He hissed. "God, you're hopeless." Only Desch could reduce the cool and collected Ingus to the irritable, bitchy, and stubborn personality that he tended to be.

"Then why?" Sardonic amusement glittered in Desch's eyes- he knew it hadn't been the reason, he was just playing. Ingus knew it too, but he wasn't one to be played with. Those blue eyes darkened, and Ingus's face contorted into a momentary snarl before it faded to a simple cloak of contempt.

"Night is a time for silence and forgetting. For everything to fade away into the shadows. No matter how beautiful the dawn may be, darkness will always be the most welcome thing." Ingus stood, followed closely by Desch.

The teal haired man chuckled again, and shook his head slightly. "It seems as if the warriors of light aren't so pristine after all."

"Shut up."

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"Ingus!"

The youth's eyes flickered in the direction of the voice. Refia had called him from his position watching the breakfast cook, slouched against a tree. She looked oddly triumphant. He inclined his head to her in response. He wasn't going anywhere. If she wanted to talk, she'd come to him.

_As we walk through the ashes_

_I whisper your name_

_A taste of pain to cling to_

_As we walk through the ashes_

_You whisper my name_

_Who's the one with the sickest mind..._

_Now?_

_This pain will never end_

_These scars will never mend_

She did. "Refia." He greeted with a small nod, watching as she took a seat beside him. He saw her eyes glitter thoughtfully, and she appeared to be struggling with something. "Whatever you want to say, be blunt with it and don't worry about making it sound better." He told her, more than familiar with her common habit of mincing words but not being very good at it. She smiled, slightly embarassed, then cleared her throat.

"I saw you with Desch."

Any other man would have started, or gasped, or acted in an equally undignified way. Ingus was not any other man. He just studied her, gauging her reactions and sitting nonplussed in the center of attention. "How?" He asked, sounding almost disinterested. She seemed put out by the lack of reaction.

"Well, you wren't exactly quiet." She said bluntly. "I just went to see what was going on. Luneth was sleeping like a log as always, and I have no idea about Arc. We all know how good is is at fake sleeping." Hes studied her a little more, then cast his gaze up to the skies with a sigh.

_Cleansing sweat_

_We are just using each other_

_Too depraved to stay alive_

_But too young to die_

_And we hurt_

_Thus we hurt_

_Scrubbing it harder_

_Too late to back out now_

_Scrubbing it even harder_

"So, any reason why you chose to tell me?"

Refia blinked. "Well...not really." Ingus could practically see her thoughts, they were so painfully predictable. He rubbed his temples tiredly, then hastened to correct them.

"Make no mistake, Refia, this isn't some affair of romance we're involved in." Refia's mouth opened, then closed before she said anything. Evidently, she was waiting out an explanation. "I found him interesting, he found me interesting, and one thing led to another. The relationship between us isn't some pretty matter of love," At this point, his lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "It's nothing but base instinct. Lust and desire. That's all." He stood.

"But..." Refia started, looking mildly confused. "But surely..." She obviously was one of those irritatingly blind females, who thought there could be no intimacy outside the confinements of affection. Foolish, and naive.

"But nothing, Refia. Love isn't everything."

And there was nothing else.

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When Desch returned later, having suitably mauled the local monster population, he took a seat beside Ingus at the warrior's indication. The others were engaged in some meaningless argumental babble on the other side of camp, they could speak unnoticed.

"Refia knows. Maybe Arc, too." he informed shortly, words blunt and to-the-point. Desch merely blinked in slight surprise, and with a smirk raised an eyebrow at the redhead.

"Crafty woman. Looks like we'll have to be more careful." His tone was light and nonchalant, but the words carried obvious implications. _There would be other times._ Ingus rolled his eyes.

_As we walk through the ashes_

_I whisper your name_

_A taste of pain to cling to_

_As we walk through the ashes_

_You whisper my name_

_Who's the one with the sickest mind..._

_Now?_

"Perhaps. She doesn't seem to care, and Arc would be too busy blushing to tell anyone. As for Luneth..." Ingus frowned slightly. "If he knew, he'd probably blow a manic fit and inform half the forest at the top of his lungs."

Desch chuckled. "Probably. A bit impulsive, that one."

"You can talk." Ingus retorted, throwing idle banter into the conversation.

The older man smiled sardonically. "And I could point out how infinitely more impulsive _you_ seem to be." Ingus scowled. He'd practically walked into that.

"Go screw yourself."

There was a snigger in response. "No thanks. There's something better than myself on offer." Despite himself, Ingus's face darkened in an angry flush. Despite his obvious embarrassment at the words, he still managed a response.

"So you can actually admit that you're not the best. What a surprise." He shot back. Desch wasn't affected. His smirk didn't leave his face or falter in the slightest.

"Hardly. But no matter how brilliant I am, I won't be reduced to selfcest." Ingus threw him an irritated look, and folded his arms behind his head.

"As I've said, hopeless." Predictably, the man just chuckled. He had the oddest sense of humor.

Distractedly, Ingus knew that he was coming to crave their pointless banters and snippets of conversation quite as much as the less public aspects of their relationship. Mere company, talking, the presence of one another. That wasn't lust. He sure as hell knew what lust felt like.

Maybe Refia was somewhat right.

Maybe there was something more after all.

_This pain will never end_

_These scars will never mend_

_Damn this dirty bed_

_Damn this dirty head_


End file.
